


A piece remains behind

by Redrabbit33



Category: Beetlejuice (1988), Beetlejuice - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Apologies, Beetlejuice is trying to be less of an asshole, F/M, Magical Pregnancy, Memory Loss, Possibly OOC, Recovery, Unplanned Pregnancy, beetlebabes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:34:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21913753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redrabbit33/pseuds/Redrabbit33
Summary: Lydia had been starting to recover and enjoy her life after the events of the movie, until it becomes apparent the ghost with the most had done more than just try to marry her...
Relationships: Beetlejuice/Lydia Deetz
Comments: 18
Kudos: 134





	1. A waking nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> Edited notes - originally this fic had mentions of non con since I didn't know how to do it otherwise, but then I figured out a way. Enjoy!

It was 2am in the Deetz house, but time had ceased meaning anything to Lydia, as she sat motionless on the cold, tile floor of the family bathroom. Still the hallway clock ticked endlessly, uncaring of how she felt or what she did, each second a beat that pushed her further into disassociation. She found her thoughts wandering in an attempt to escape her reality, and wondered again why Delia had insisted on the bathroom floor being tiled rather than the more sensible option of linoleum, which was comparatively less slippery when wet.

_Delia will never speak to me again…_

A soft smile danced upon her lips at the thought of her slipping after getting out of the shower and hitting her head on the sink, dying instantly as a mixture of blood and water washed down the drain, reminiscent of her favourite classic movie. Then there would be no need to worry about anything and she could even take up residence in the Maitland’s old hang out spot; the attic, which had lain undisturbed for quite some months after the two had passed on. Juno hadn’t given them much time, but the ghost couple had tried to explain it to her as best they could - After that Sandworm stunt Barbara had pulled on… _Him_ … They had been given the opportunity to end their haunting early, and much to Lydia’s disappointment, they had decided to leave while they could. It had been hard on Lydia, being the lonely girl she was, but as time marched on she discovered she had bigger problems to deal with.

_What would they say if they knew..?_

Lydia had no idea how long she’d been sitting on the cold, hard floor, her legs completely numb and her eyes fully adjusted to the dark, not that she had any reason to look around. She was wearing spider print pajamas, a gift from her father, who had never truly understood her attraction to all things creepy but had nevertheless attempted to be a part of her life and take part in her interest. Lydia was thankful he had always tried to be by her side, even when work had pushed her out of being his number one priority, but after mom...  
She shook the thoughts away, the sudden movement causing some of her neck joints to crack and pop after so long being in the same position.  
Everyone dealt with grief differently, and she had admittedly closed herself off to her family for many years after her mother’s passing, up until they moved into their current home where the drama and peril had, along with the Maitland’s, helped her realise she needed her father and stepmother and they needed her. Although they would never truly be close, she found herself opening up to them more often, and her father made more of an effort to spend time with her, as well as Delia doing what she could to be some kind of motherly figure. It had been a strange, but somewhat comforting, few weeks, but that all seemed like an eternity ago to Lydia.

_Oh father... How can I ever look you in the eye again..?_

Lydia’s thoughts eventually returned, much to her dismay, and she had no choice but to move. Her entire lower half was numb and her whole body ached, as if she had been laying motionless in a coffin for the last century and a half, so it took her a few minutes to move herself to sit and then finally stand, the pain from her bones and muscles sharp at first, but subsiding gradually. With a soft exhale, she reached out and opened the bathroom door, feeling somewhat disjointed from reality, as if she was watching a movie while her body moved accordingly.

_Follow the script..._

The hallway outside the bathroom was also dark, but she could tell it was growing vaguely brighter as dawn inevitably arrived to chase away the inky night, but to Lydia's dismay she knew the reality of her nightmare would remain, unphased by the sunlight and only growing stronger with the passage of time. It truly was a nightmare... A thing that could’ve only been conjured up in the depths of her imagination, a wicked, terrifying thing that made her stomach writhe with the same sickness that had abruptly been waking her up for the past two months. And yet she couldn’t wake up from this terror, reality keeping her firmly grounded despite her pleas for it to all be just some bad dream.

_Don’t look at it..._

Lydia numbly made her way through the hallway, returning to her room, and found her eyes cast downwards to what she had been holding the entire time. Even though the darkness prevented her from seeing it, she didn’t need to use her eyes to read the symbol; It was already firmly burned into her vision.

_Positive... Positive... Positive..._


	2. Beetle, beetle, beetle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lydia tries not to think about the situation until she finally gives in and says that magical B word

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo chapter two!! Please enjoy, I hope what I'm writing is decent! It's difficult to get down Keetlejuice's mannerisms with only 10 minutes of screen time so I'll almost definitely borrow from the cartoon, other fics, and my own headcannons. Hope you don't mind!

Over the next few days, Lydia did what she could to put the situation to the back of her mind. She focused in school, and tried to stay busy at home, although the routine only seemed to hammer home how dull life had become without her surrogate ghost parents.

Lydia exhaled softly and set her homework aside, unable to focus with all the thoughts buzzing around in her mind. She had suppressed them for as long as possible but couldn’t bottle them up forever, not that denying the situation would help anyway.

“I really wish you guys were still around...” Lydia said mournfully, pulling her legs up to her chest “even though I know it’s what you wanted, peace and to pass on, I... I really need you right now.”

She hung her head as silent tears flowed freely, staining black streaks down her ivory face before rolling down her chin. How was it possible? No... How was it fair? That she was the one who had been targeted for all of this? That he had somehow done this to her, without a deal, without even her knowledge?How? Why?

“Beetle..” Lydia whispered through grit teeth, even the first half of his name spoken like poison in her mouth.

“Beetle. Beetle. Beetle...”

She said it bitterly, like it would do something and he was just not answering, even though the reality was that she was too afraid to say the full thing even once, and yet too angry to not want answers from him. He had done something unspeakable to her, without her knowledge, let alone her consent, and she loathed him for it. Hated him more than she had ever hated anyone in her life. More than that bitchy girl at school, more than her father when she discovered he was the one who had made the call to shut off mom’s life support all those years ago, more than Delia when she had tried to invade her life, more than all the therapists she’d ever seen, and more than she had ever, _ever_ hated herself.

No... She didn’t just hate him, what she felt was an unfathomable rage, an anger that burned within every fibre of her being, like a wildfire doused with kerosene. Lydia was a bomb, tick, tick, ticking, ready to explode, damn the consequences. 

Abruptly, she stood up and wiped her face with the back of her sleeve, all sadness and self pity burned away by the white hot rage that flowed from her very being like a geyser, forcing all sense of logic to back down, terrified of what she was about to do.

Both Dad and Delia were out, which was lucky for them as she marched undetermined up to the attic, eyes narrowed and jaw clenched painfully tight. Nothing could stop her from getting an explanation, not fear, not logic, not any threats the poltergeist would undoubtedly throw at her.

She pushed open the attic door, pausing for only a moment when a rush of sadness hit her from seeing Mr and Mrs Maitland’s favorite place to be after death, mostly due to Delia’s tasteless decorating destroying the rest of their house.

“You’re stalling,” she told herself angrily, forcing her legs to carry her back over to the model town where she stared down at it. Adam had told her that... _He_... Had taken residence within the model graveyard back when things first started, and that was where she had first met him, tanning on the balcony of a model whorehouse. But as she looked closer, it became apparent those features were no longer there, vanished alongside the poltergeist who had apparently conjured them up.

Her eyes scanned the whole model, searching for a sign he was still there somehow, but there was nothing out of place, every miniature building and street as perfect as the day Adam had built it. Which unfortunately meant there was only sure-fire one way to get his attention...

“Beetlejuice.”

\----

It had been eight years, three months and six days, to the dot, when Beetlejuice heard the summon of his name – something he hadn’t been expecting to hear for at least a few centuries. It was a familiar tug in his gut, like a rope was tied around his waist and would pull him to whoever called out his name, whether or not he wanted to go.

Before he even had time to dust off his suit, he was standing and staring at the back of some raven haired chick. Beetlejuice instantly reached out but his hand rebounded off glass, causing him to yell in frustration and the girl to turn, both their eyes meeting and subsequently widening in fear and recognition.

Beetlejuice instantly recovered from his shock, both at the new containment and at the fact his almost-bride was the one who had called his name.

“Lyds!” he called, still trapped behind the glass of the large vanity mirror that’d been stored in the attic long ago “Oh man, you really shouldn’t call without warnin’! I mean, don’t get me wrong, LOVE bein’ back here, but ya got lucky I wasn’t busy with someone else, if ya know what I mean.”

Lydia didn’t respond, her jaw still clenched and her hands in tight, shaking fists by her side.

Beetlejuice swallowed dryly, finding her piercing gaze a little unnerving.

“Not that I’m complain’, nothin’ wrong with a little voyeurism now and again.”

He went quiet and glanced her over a few times. She didn’t look that different from the last time he’d seen her with the exception of her makeup being smudged and smeared across her face, making her look like a panda.

The dead man couldn’t help but find that funny.

“Hey, ya know what I’m thinkin’ about right now? Yo—”

“Why?”

Her question caught him off guard, interrupting his sentence and causing him to double take the woman stood in front of him. She looked like a grieving mother and he had just admitted to the murder of her only son. A look filled with anguish and sorrow and rage, all at once, each emotion fighting for dominance.

For the first time in his life, Beetlejuice didn’t know how to respond.

“Why?” he repeated with genuine confusion, sounding as concerned as the first time they had met and she’d admitted to wanting to die.

Lydia’s tears began to flow again as she tried to find the words.

“Why... Did you...” she fell silent, the words somehow remaining out of her reach “Why am I...? How did you...?”

Beetlejuice waited for her to finish the sentence, watching with confusion as she tried to say it, before he saw her sink to the ground and let out a defeated wail. It was a wail that spoke volumes, if only he knew how to speak moans of anguish. He really had to start taking lessons.

Lydia curled into the foetal position, the irony of which was not lost on her, and resumed the crying from earlier. Seeing him had extinguished her anger like wet fingers pinching a lit candlewick, leaving behind only fear and sadness and an overwhelming feeling of dread.

“How could you? How could you? How could you?” she whispered softly, still laying on the dusty attic floor, in front of the poltergeist who had caused her so much misery.

Beetlejuice frowned and pressed his hands to the mirror in an attempt to crane down and look at the weeping Lydia on the floor, in the process discovering that he couldn’t pass through even with his powers trying to force against the barrier.

“Babes,” he started, trying to be somewhat comforting “As much as it pains me to admit, I know ya didn’t summon me just because ya missed this gorgeous face,” he grinned in an attempt to get her to laugh, or maybe recoil in disgust as most people did, but she didn’t respond to his actions.

“So... As much as I hate being called on the horn just to chit chat, I figure since ya were almost my wife ‘n’ all, I can lend you an ear for a moment,” he said with a shug, reaching up and pulling off a moss covered ear before pressing it to his side of the mirror.

Surprisingly, she laughed at that weak pun, and Beetlejuice practically lit up at the sound, reattaching his ear after a moment and smiling broadly.

Okay, so he’d done something that had made her upset and angry, now to figure out what... The first thought that sprung to mind was the whole marriage thing. Lydia, plus the eternally boring Maitland couple, had done everything to stop that wedding, and much to his chagrin they had succeeded, but he didn’t see any reason she’d be crying about that now. He was out of their lives! And deaths. But Lydia had called him back, only to have a breakdown when trying to confront him about whatever was upsetting her.

Then it dawned on him. Like a punch to his gut, he took a winded step back, discovering subsequently that he was in a relatively small box with the mirror acting as his only view into the living world. He’d wonder why he wasn’t in the model town later.

It had worked? He hadn’t been sure it was even possible... But that terrified shine in her eyes only confirmed his suspicions, making him somewhat lightheaded.

“Jesus Christ... You’re pregnant.”


	3. New deal's on the table

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lydia and Beetlejuice have a real conversation for, what Lydia believes, the first time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! Views on the fanfic keep going up, even if the kudos don't, so I'll keep writing, even for those who don't want to leave any thanks. Your attention will be rewarded anyway ❤️

* * *

Beetlejuice and Lydia sat opposite each other for a short while, her on an old dusty couch and him floating mid-air so they could be eye level, although he was still trapped within the mirror, not yet daring to ask her to release him. Lydia was both grateful he wasn’t doing his charming, conman act on her, and angry that her suspicions had been correct and he was the cause of all this. She still didn’t know how, or when, or why, but the minor setback from before wasn’t going to stop her from finding out.

Beetlejuice cleared his throat and she looked up to meet his eyes, silently thankful he was trapped behind glass.

“So those dead deadbeats ain’t around anymore, huh?” he asked, honestly quite glad they weren’t since he still had a lot of pissed off gestures, motions and words for the couple. If only they’d had actual bodies... He’d give anything to tear Barbara’s arm off and smack Adam around with it, for a start.

“How did you know that?” Lydia responded with very slight nervousness, wondering if he’d been watching them this whole time, finding everything they’d gone though some huge joke.

Beetlejuice rolled his eyes, literally, as they rotated back into his skull for a moment before returning to normality.

“Babes, we’re in their shitty attic, and they’re not standin’ behind ya, callin’ me an asshole or whatever the beige version of the insult would be. Doesn’t take a genius to figure out they’re gone.”

Lydia folded her arms indignantly and let out a sigh, brown eyes downcast.

“Juno let them out of their haunting early...”

“Mm she would.”

“I mean... I’m glad they’re free now, it’s what they wanted, but my dad... And Delia... They’re just not the same thing...” Lydia admitted, pulling at a loose thread to keep her hands busy. It felt strange to talk about these things, especially to the man she had planned to tear into not but 25 minutes ago, but his new demeanor put her at ease somehow. She sighed, looking back up at him before asking softly “Do you ever feel invisible..?”

Beetlejuice paused then offered her a pitying... No... A _sympathetic_ smile. No charm, no wit, no bravado, just understanding between the poltergeist and the misunderstood girl, two spirits both trapped in their own way.

There was more silence between them, but this time it felt different. Before it had been full of tension and pain, but now there was a sense of similarity and understanding, the static of a connection forming between them both. Beetlejuice found the sensation so strange that he folded his arms, breaking the moment and putting up an emotional wall between him and Lydia, the way he reasoned things should be.

“So!” he announced energetically, causing Lydia to jump at the sudden change in emotional atmosphere “Enough with that, let’s get down to business!”

“Business?” Lydia asked after a moment to collect herself from the vulnerability they had both shared just a second ago.

Beetlejuice grinned and rocked back on his heels, hands stuffed into his pockets.

“Sure babes, ya called me here for a reason, right? I’d say it’s time ta make another deal!”

He took his hands from his pockets and began pacing around the small space he occupied, already hashing out the details.

“Obviously I still want my part of the original deal: marriage and therefore eternal freedom to wander the Earth, causing chaos and terror however I want, blah, blah, blah, but!” he turned to her, now ecstatic with the reality of the situation “Now we got a kid! So your part is that you get taken care of for the rest of ya life as my darling wifey, in sickness and in health, etcetera, etcetera, and, hell, I promise to go easy on ol’ Chuck, ya know, as a thanks fer callin’ me back.”

Lydia had stood up from the couch and listened to what he had to say, only growing more and more angry as he went on. When Beetlejuice finally stopped talking and looked at her, he saw the barely contained rage that bubbled beneath the surface, her hands squeezed into tight fists by her sides and her breathing noticeably shallow.

“Do you honestly think,” Lydia began, voice surprisingly calm “that I would _ever_ let you free again after what you did to me?”

Beetlejuice looked surprised, then went uncharacteristically quiet before motioning for Lydia to come closer to the mirror he was trapped behind. Reluctantly, she did so, moving until there was only a sheet of glass separating them.

“Lydia...” he began, surprising her with the full use of her name as well as the seriousness of his tone “Don’t ya remember? You told me you loved me.”

The statement shocked her so much that she took a step back, hands held out in defence and face a picture of disgust.

“I would _never_ say such a thing to a man as vile as you!”

“It’s true! Honest, babes, my word is my bond,” Beetlejuice insisted, starting to get visibly frustrated he couldn’t get any closer when she took a step back.

But Lydia didn’t believe him, even the idea of such a thing making her feel uncomfortable, and hurriedly backed away to the door leading out of the attic, fumbling with the handle while continuing to watch him, terrified he’d somehow come out of the mirror when her back turned.

“Lyds come on! At least let me explain! **LYDIAAA!!** ”

He hammed against the glass, practically throwing himself at it to get at her, so he could tell her what had happened and get her to understand, but it was too late. Lydia threw open the door and ran out, not even giving him a second glance, and Beetlejuice was left screaming to himself, stuck inside with no one but her to let him out.


	4. Third time's the charm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lydia returns to the ghost for the third time, determined to get some real answers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What if I posted another chapter right after the last one? Haha jk.... Unless? 😏

Lydia practically threw herself down both sets of stairs, heart beating harder than she’d ever thought possible. His sudden rage against the mirror had shaken some sense into her, and forced the sudden realisation that she had willingly invited the poltergeist back into their lives, and this time there was no Barbara around to defeat him with a giant sandworm.

As Lydia rounded the corner of the bottom stairs, not even sure where she was going, she hit something physical and cried out, instantly backing away.

“Get away from me!” she screamed, her eyes screwed tightly shut.

But to her surprise it wasn’t Beetlejuice who responded, but a more familiar, if only equally as comforting, voice instead “Pumpkin? What’s the matter?”

Lydia opened her eyes and found herself starting up at a rather surprised Charles, as well as a more annoyed looking Delia, both of whom were staring at her as if she’d just sprouted another head.

Lydia exhaled just the slightest bit. They weren’t the Maitlands, but at least they weren’t Beetlejuice, which was all she really needed them to not be right now.

“Daddy... I um...” Lydia started, wetting her lips slightly and taking the opportunity to at least try and gather her thoughts.

Charles gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze and made an attempt at fatherly comfort.

“All that makeup running down your face, you look like you’ve seen a ghost!” he joked, before his eyebrows pinched together nervously “You... You didn’t though, right?”

Lydia bit her lower lip before glancing at the floor and shaking her head, earning a relieved sigh from her father, as well as Delia who had stepped into the kitchen to put away the groceries they’d bought but was still eavesdropping on them, just in case.

_You don’t deserve to go through any of this, daddy. I won’t be the one who puts you in the hospital from a stress-induced heart attack..._

“I was just um...” she began, trying to soothe the wobble in her voice “Organising some of my portfolios and I um... Spilled juice all over one!”

It was a weak excuse, flimsier than paper, but Charles seemed too relieved at the news there were still no ghosts to really hear her, and began his walk down to his study.

“Of course sweetheart, don’t worry, I’ll buy you a new one.”

Lydia opened her mouth to tell him you can’t buy back ruined art, but there was no point as he closed the door behind him and left her standing alone in the hallway, still looking a terrified mess.

She swallowed dryly and turned to go back upstairs to wash her face and change out of her pajamas, but found herself frozen on the first step. _He_ was up there. Trapped in a mirror in the attic, sure, but for how long? Was she safe? Was anyone?

Lydia quickly decided to go into the kitchen instead, more willing to brave Delia than her dead ex-fiancé. Maybe if she stayed two levels away from him, he’d give up and leave, and she’d just have to...

_What? Be a single mother to a dangerously unstable dead man’s offspring?_

The whole reason she’d called Beetlejuice had completely slipped her mind, and while he had offered to explain everything, Lydia had already run and no doubt angered the ghost. Even if she did go back, would he still talk to her? Not to mention the deal...

As she washed her face in the kitchen sink, trying to return it to the blank, porcelain canvas it had been before she’d applied, and then completely ruined, all her makeup, Lydia thought about the deal he’d been rambling about.

Marriage. Well that one was obvious. He wanted out more than anything and she was not only one of the few people who could see him, but also had almost no choice in the matter; their lives, and deaths, were forcibly intertwined. Either by fate or his own hand, Lydia wasn’t certain. 

Unfortunately for her it didn’t seem like it’d be a normal marriage, and why would it be? He revelled in chaos and destruction and, according to Adam and Barbara, was a force to fear even while leashed by his name. Letting him loose in the living world seemed like a terrible idea...

As she dried her face, which was still noticeably puffy from crying earlier, the final point nagged at her thoughts. The...

_Baby?_

_Thing?_

_.... Monster._

It was still there, growing, developing, feeding off her. Could it sense her terror? Did it know that its father was up in the attic? Was it even technically alive or... Was it possible it would be just like him?  
Malevolent, dangerous, uncontrollable. Hers? No... Her curse, not her child. How could it be? When it had been forced onto her, without permission, without a second thought.

_But was it? He was trying to explain before you ran away._

But what explanation was there? And how could she even trust him? So many questions but no answers...

_If you really want answers then just go back up there._

Lydia screwed her eyes shut again, leaning with her hands on the kitchen sink. She had no choice but to go back up and talk to Beetlejuice, there were too many answers she needed from him, and she supposed he didn’t really deserve to be absent from their... Thing’s... Life.

After a few more moments, Lydia began her journey back up to the attic, having talked herself into it.

“Third time’s the charm...”

\----

When Lydia left, Beetlejuice went berserk, screaming all kinds of expletives, throwing himself against the window that separated him and the living world, even summoning a bunch of bottles to smash, showering the floor of his tiny containment room with shards of broken glass. Although he debated leaving so he could at least smash up some furniture, Beetlejuice reluctantly stayed put. If he left then he wouldn’t be able to return unless Lydia said his name again, which opened up a temporary doorway to spy on wherever his name was spoken. Of course, three was the number necessary to let him really have some fun, but one was enough to invite him in.

It took what felt like an eternity to the dead man before he finally remembered something.

“Aw gh- I’m in a mirror! You dumbass, why didn’t you think of this before?!”

With a brief flick of his hand, the view of the empty attic changed and instead he was looking into someone’s bedroom. With the distasteful decor, it was almost undoubtedly Delia and Charles’, but to his dismay neither of them were in there right now.

“Hey, nothin’ wrong with a little voyeurism now and again!” he chuckled to himself, mood notably brighter than before now that he’d remembered his view was changeable. Hell, he even made the broken glass under his feet disappear, all evidence of his tantrum gone, not that there was anyone around to see it.

After a little more snooping where he could, after all he could only see into spots that had mirrors or reflective surfaces, he saw her. Lydia, at the kitchen sink, wiping away her makeup and seemingly lost in thought. Even without the heavy, purple eyeshadow or the dark, matte lipstick, she was still so beautiful, like a goddess he’d normally only be able to look at in Renaissance paintings. He hadn’t noticed it earlier, but the way her raven hair framed her perfectly shaped face made his heart do something it hadn’t done in centuries. Beetlejuice could only stare, mouth somehow drier than ever, and wonder what she was thinking about.

“Come back to me babes...” he muttered, knowing it was for the best she couldn’t see or hear him at the moment. It would only scare her off if he revealed he could follow her around the house, and the last thing he wanted was for all the mirrors to be smashed.

She stayed there for longer than necessary, splashing water on her face even when the makeup was long gone, but Beetlejuice wouldn’t have cared if she’d spent the rest of her life there in front of him like that. Anything she did gave him strange feelings, reminiscent of being alive again, and while the thought of that hurt, it was too amazing to look away from. When was the last time he had washed his face? Or worried about any of problems that came with being alive? He couldn’t remember...

When he broke out of his own thoughts, he noticed Lydia had gone and he was now staring down Delia’s shirt as she leaned over the sink to grab something. Normally a peek down an unsuspecting woman’s blouse was too good of an opportunity to pass up, but Lydia was gone and he wanted to know where, so he waved the view away and began his new hobby of mirror jumping around the Deetz house until he ended up back in the attic, face to face with an unamused looking Lydia.

“Beetlejuice.”

“Ack!”


	5. Mr Ghost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lydia finally gets some information out of the suited dead man, but unfortunately for her it only leads to more mysteries.

It was round three for he and Lydia, and not in the way Beetlejuice would’ve preferred. Instead of her moaning his name in that delicious way he knew she could, Lydia had said it as harsh as the rock his tombstone was carved from. Still that was one out of three so he wasn’t complaining.

“Babes! Y’uh... Startl’d me,” he admitted with an awkward laugh, feeling somewhat under scrutiny as the unamused young woman continued to eyeball him, certain he’d done something wrong.

Lydia wet her lips slightly before she spoke, mustering every inch of confidence and composure she had left.

“Tell me everything, Beetlejuice.”

There it was again, only this time spoken so much sweeter. His name in her mouth sounded like heaven compressed into three simple syllables, like liquid toffee, like something so painfully familiar he longed to relive it, if only for a second.

The poltergeist grimaced and pulled slightly at one of his cuffs as he tried to think of the best way to tell her what she wanted to hear.

“Where t’ start... Y’remember back before we actually met? Adam ‘nd Babs were off in th’ Netherworld, probably bitchin’ about you an’ yer family ta Juno,” he paused to grin at the image of Juno rolling her eyes at the petty complaints the couple had probably expressed. They’d gotten lucky he’d even offered to help, not that they ever thanked him for any of it – not even as much as a basket of fruit for saving them from the lost souls room! What a bunch of losers.

“Anyway, you came up here the first night they left and read through the handbook they forgot, but y’don’t remember anythin’ particularly unusual besides that, do you?” he asked, giving Lydia a look she swore she’d seen before.

With a soft shake of her head, raven hair flowing freely and enrapturing Beetlejuice as it often did, Lydia confirmed his suspicions.

He took a moment before sucking his teeth loudly, eventually pointing over her shoulder at the dusty model town.

“You ‘n’ me? We totally did it there.”

Lydia looked between him and the model, her expression morphing into one of disgust while his erupted into rapturous glee. Even though he really needed her to say his name one more time, he couldn’t help but to brag and delight in her hilariously adorable expression.

“Yeeep,” he drawled, shooting her a dirty wink “Y’wanted the ol’ Juice _bad_. Every night y’d be sayin’ _“Oh Mr Ghost, what if daddy finds out what I’ve been doing?”_ ,” he said, copying her voice perfectly. “An’ I’d say _“Don’t worry, sugar, I’m yer daddy now.”,_ ” He finished his own sentence with a gruff mimicry of himself, and boy did Lydia hate how it sent heat pooling in her stomach.

Beetlejuice grinned at how pink her alabaster face had become, finding it adorable how she was still so easy to fluster. So predictably perfect, just as he remembered.

Lydia struggled for words, all confidence drained and replaced with a hot mix of embarrassment and something else... A warm, tingling feeling in the base of her stomach that gave her both adrenaline and a strange desperation. She wanted to deny his claims, to call him a creep and a liar, to call him out on his scam, but instead she drew closer to the mirror and spoke breathily “Tell me more... Mr Ghost.”

Beetlejuice swallowed hard. Why had breathing suddenly become so difficult? Had someone tightened his tie in the last ten seconds?

“Y’... Y’visited pretty much everyday... Me in that little cemetery. We stayed in one of the model houses, we did it fer a while actually, turned out yer ghost pals were gone longer than I expected.”

She smiled ever so slightly at the ridiculous tale he presented her. The idea of her somehow shrinking down and running around Adam’s model town with a creepy old dead guy was ludicrous, not to mention impossible, but didn’t it sound amazing? A whole town to explore with a powerful spirit at her side, fulfilling her every whim and idea with no one around to bother them. Still she had one big question burning in her brain...

“Why don’t I remember any of it? The first time I recall we formally met was when we played charades and you fell off the balcony.”

Beetlejuice shrugged, looking almost apologetic “Sorry babes, I can’t tell ya everythin’. Believe me, I wish I could, but these aren’t my rules.”

“Yeah, yeah, you don’t have any rules, I remember...” Lydia said, lamely repeating what he had told her when he’d first asked for the equivalent of a mortal greencard “But that still doesn’t explain _this_ ,” she gestured at her stomach, which was thankfully still flat. God only knows how deformed that thing was going to make her body look... Or how soon.

Beetlejuice glanced at her torso as he considered his next words carefully, pacing back and forth within his small mirror confines. He was giving her a lot for free, which he supposed she’d semi-earned, but answers were his only gambit in their little game. It was time he finally pushed her for something in return.

“Lemme out and I’ll explain everythin’. No bullshit, no scarin’ yer folks, I swear.”

Lydia snorted back a laugh. She was surprised he thought his word was enough for her to trust him. But then again it had been in the past... And he had always kept his promises as far as she was aware. Maybe because that was all the dead had to their names – the validity of their word.

Still it was difficult to trust him, especially after those bold claims he’d made of her begging for something that seemed so gross to her now.

“Okay,” she began, finding it funny how his expression lit up at the hope she was agreeing to free him “we can discuss you coming out if you can prove we really did do what you’re claiming we did.”

The striped sprit laughed at her easy test before beginning to list off everything he’d dedicated to memory “Yer mom’s name was Emily, y’used ta have a black cat named Percy but he got hit by a car when y’were twelve, yer favorite ice cream is strawberry but ya hate how pink it is so y’mix in black food dye, less’see what else...” he paused and scratched at a patch of moss on his chin thoughtfully, trying to think of the most important things she’d told him.

But he didn’t need to say anymore; Lydia had never looked so shocked in her life. There was no way he could’ve known those things, not unless she’d specifically told him, which of course was what he was saying had happened. Could it be true? That they’d spent time together in the model but for some reason she had her memories of it erased? But that’d mean...

“You weren’t lying when you said I’d told you I loved you...” Lydia whispered in shock, her hand coming up to her face with slowly dawning realization. Everything he’d said was true.

Beetlejuice didn’t say anything more – he didn’t have to. His clever Lydia had pieced enough together for a picture to start emerging, and he knew she wanted the rest of the pieces.

“Just say it one more time, babes, you’ve already come so far,” _easy juice, don’t push it too hard..._

The warm pool in her stomach had long gone and was now a twisting ball of anxiety and dread, but she knew she had to do it. He clearly wasn’t going to tell her anything else and the idea of a chunk of her memory gone without her even realizing was too strange and unusual to be ignored. Time to see this thing through...

Lydia closed her eyes and sucked in a long, soft breath through her nose before she finally spoke the final part of the ghost’s calling.

“Beetlejuice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeee! Sorry for the late chapter, I actually visited NY in January and haven't had any inspiration to write until now. Hope you enjoyed and don't find my explanation of the two of them spending time in the model too unrealistic!


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